We head to the front desk, and I poke around while Marley asks to see the dogs. A chunky orange tabby with a tag that says OLIVER lumbers up to me and rubs against my pants, purring until I give him a quick scratch behind his ears.
One of the employees takes us back, and Oliver trots around behind us, clearly in charge of the entire operation.
As we peer through the cages, Marley looks more and more somber.
“I wish we could take them all,” she says, using her pointer finger to pet the nose of a Lab mix, big brown eyes staring sadly up at her.
Then there’s a squeaky yip from the cage behind us, and we spin around to see a tiny silver Yorkie puppy, its little body the size of one of my hands. The dog barks again, straining to get through the links to her.
Marley gasps, and I witness what I can only define as an out-of-body experience, sheer cuteness overload.
She runs over, and the employee comes to unlock the door and get the small puppy out of its cage. “This one just got here last night. We found her abandoned by that pond over on Hickory Street.”
The dog launches herself into Marley’s hands, and she cuddles her sweetly, almost reverently. She grabs a tiny ball from the front of the cage, and the two of them begin to play with it, the puppy’s little paws attacking Marley’s fingers as she rolls the ball back and forth.
“This is exactly like the puppy I’ve always wanted,” she says, looking up at me, her eyes glistening.
“I think we found a winner,” I say, watching as Marley holds the pup up, staring at it lovingly.
After she fills out the application and pays the adoption fee, we run around on the grass by the parking lot, the puppy’s tiny silver head popping up in between the flower bushes while she crashes through them, petals clinging to her ears and nose.
Soon she collapses in front of Marley, huffing and puffing from all the exercise. “Someone’s sleepy,” Marley murmurs as she scoops her up, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“Her name is Georgia,” she says, holding the puppy up to me. Georgia mimics Marley’s kiss, licking my cheek with her tiny tongue, her fluffy fur tickling my skin.
“Nice to meet you, Georgia,” I say, patting the pup’s little head as she yips a response.
Yep. Way better than a duck.
“We should take a picture,” Marley says, excited. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and holds it out to take a photo of us.
I smile as there’s a quick flash, and then another, and a surprising jolt of pain slices through my head. For a moment I see my mom standing in front of my eyes in the same white floral dress that she had on the night of the accident, her phone in her hand.
Fuck.
My first vision in well over a month. Every time I think they’re gone for good… something happens.
I collect myself, pulling Marley closer as she takes one more, the two of us peering at her phone to see the result.
It’s a cute picture. Marley looks beautiful. Happy. Her nose and cheeks are flushed from all the running, the green in her eyes standing out against the grass all around us. We both look so different than we did when we met all those months ago at the cemetery, the weight of our grief lifting slowly off our shoulders, pain no longer shadowing our faces. In her arms, there’s tiny Georgia, miraculously looking in the direction of the camera.
“Send that to me,” I say to her as we walk back to the car, the feeling of her hand in mine outweighing the pain in my head and the uneasy feeling in my chest.
24
I hold Marley’s hand as we walk down Main Street a month later, the sky above us dark and ominous. The humid summer air clings to my arms and legs as Georgia stops to sniff at a patch of grass next to the sidewalk, giving me time to turn and look up at the clouds, the wind tugging at my hair.
“I think it might—”
There’s a clap of thunder, and the sound drowns out the rest of my sentence as rain begins to fall all around us.
Marley squeals and grabs ahold of Georgia, pressing close to me as we duck under an overhang to keep dry.
I rest my chin against her head, tensing when I see a car whiz past us. A silver Toyota. Identical to the one I was driving the night of the accident.
The car that Kim died in.
Sometimes it feels like forever ago. Sometimes just a minute.
Marley takes my hand as she studies my face. “What’s wrong?”
“That car,” I say, a shiver running through my body. “It’s just like the one I was driving when…”
I pull away, staring at the curve the car disappeared around, my vision blurring as I see windshield wipers trying desperately to push away the rain, Kim in the passenger seat. “I… I drove past here. On a rainy night like this.”
There’s another boom of thunder, and I flinch at the noise, lightning splitting the sky in two. “Just like this.”
Wait.
I pull out my phone, and the screen lights up, the date appearing in white letters. June 7. “A year ago today,” I whisper.
A year. It’s been a whole year since that night.
“Let’s go home,” I say, my eyes focusing on Marley, Georgia clutched to her chest, raindrops clinging to her cheeks.
The second our eyes meet, I feel calmer. Safe.
Our fingers twine together and we make a run for it, ducking between awnings and overhangs until we get to the path leading to my house. When we arrive, we head straight for the basement, and I move to start a fire in the fireplace, the flame catching almost instantly, white and yellow and orange eating away at the wood, warming us.
I lean forward to stoke the fire as it grows across the log, swallowing it whole. There’s a clap of thunder outside, and at the same time a quick, sharp pain streaks across my forehead. The fire poker clatters noisily from my hand.
Ow. Holy shit.
I pick up the fire poker and put it back on its stand as I keep my eyes focused on the fire. That was—
An ember pops, a flash of red. For a split second I see the flare of red emergency lights on wet asphalt, a dizzying pain.
No. I’m not going through this again. I stand up, shaking it off as the room comes back into view.
I run my fingers through my hair and let out a long sigh. All these months later and I still don’t like storms. I don’t know why this one is triggering my head pain like this. It must just be the anniversary.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
I turn to look at Marley on the couch, her long hair still damp from our run through the rain. Her face is aglow in the light of the fire, but her eyes are focused outside, staring at the storm through the French doors. Georgia is wrapped in a towel in her arms.
I sit down beside her, studying her face. There’s a distant, haunted look in her eyes. One that hasn’t been there for months.
One I thought we’d gotten rid of.
“Feel what?” I ask.
“Like we were never meant to be this happy. Like one day all this will be gone? Like…” Her voice trails off as she looks down at Georgia and then at the fireplace, her eyes taking in every corner of the room before landing on me. “Something this good can’t last.”
I cup her face in my hands and she tries to smile, but the sadness lingers around her eyes, the corners of her lips. So I kiss her everywhere I see it. One eyelid and then the other, her lips, then, softly, her forehead. She looks up at me, and I know this is the moment. More than ever before, I feel the words I’ve wanted to say for months threaten to bubble out, my heart pounding at the idea of telling her.
No more I love it. I love her. Marley. More than anything.
I repeat it over and over again in my head, my breath catching in my chest as I prepare to say the words I never thought I’d say to anyone ever again. The words I never knew could mean so much. The ones I’ve felt since that night under the full moon.
But the nerves are gone the second I open my mouth, and the words flow out more naturally than anything I’ve ever said. “I
love you, Marley.”
She starts, pulling back to look at me.
“I never knew love could feel like this. That it could get so deep inside me that I have two hearts beating in my chest.…” I pull her hand up to rest above my heart. “Yours and mine. As long as we love each other, Marley, this will last. Nothing is going to stop or change that. I will love you forever. I promise.”
Before I continue, I kiss her softly, so gently it feels like a whisper.
“So I guess it really depends… on whether or not you love me, too.”
Her eyes brim with tears, and she reaches up to push the unruly strand of hair out of my face, a small smile forming on her lips. “I do,” she says, kissing me between the words. “I do, I do, I do.”
She pours herself into my arms, her yellow dress soft beneath my fingertips as I pull her closer, tugging her on top of me. I kiss her, the electricity between us crackling louder and more powerfully than the bolts of lightning on the other side of the glass.
Everything we’ve been through passes in front of my eyes as I hold her. So much has changed since that very first day at the cemetery, since the accident a year ago, this person entirely changing what I thought was even possible for my life.
We sit by the fire, curled up with Georgia under a blanket, ignoring the thunder and rain outside, focusing only on each other until the warm, crackling flames pull us closer and closer to sleep. As my eyelids grow heavy, I look at Marley, tucked safely in my arms, her cheeks rosy from the fire. “I love you,” she says softly. Hearing those words for the first time from her lips puts the biggest smile on my face.
“I love you too,” I whisper again before sleep pulls me under. I love her too. I always will.
* * *
I don’t know how long we’re asleep, but a loud crash of thunder wakes me with a start, my arms empty, the basement dark, the fire gone cold. I sit up, rubbing my eyes, squinting as Georgia sits at the French doors, whining. She paws at the little panes of glass.
I push myself up and go over, looking out into the storm. It’s still raging furiously.
“Marley?” I call out toward the empty basement.
Only silence answers me. Georgia paws again and my stomach tightens. Is Marley out there? In this mess?
I throw open the door. A cold wind rips through the bare trees and almost yanks me along with it. The rain pours off the roof as I run around the house, the downpour instantly soaking my clothes. Dread creeps up the back of my neck. A dread that’s familiar in a way I don’t want to think about.
“Marley!” I call as I run, the sound of electricity sizzling in the air, lightning flashing angrily across the sky. A searing pain stretches the length of my scar, and I try to will it away, ignoring the memories that start to intrude as I stagger forward, calling her name again and again. “Marley, where are you?”
I stumble into the street, looking up and down the block, the streetlights burning bright through the rain, fighting back against the stormy darkness that threatens to overtake them. There’s another explosion of light, a flash in front of my eyes, the bolt hitting a transformer at the far end of the street and showering the neighborhood in fireworks of sparks. I struggle to see through the rain and the wind, but it batters my eyes and my face, my head searing with pain as the streetlights pop off one by one, the darkness racing closer and closer to me until the street is completely black.
Yip-yip! Georgia.
I spin in the direction of the house, and all of the lights go on at once, illuminating the front lawn, the porch, the path to the basement. Is Marley back inside?
There’s another crack of lightning across the sky, and I see a silhouette in front of me for just a moment before the pain hits me, ricocheting around my skull and all across my body. A pain so blinding all I can do is shout as I tumble forward, face-first. There’s no stopping my fall. My head slams hard against the ground. Then it all goes black.
25
A bright light, a nurse reaching out to take my hand as I fight to raise it.
Shattered glass.
Kim’s face.
Screaming.
The seat belt locking around her chest.
“Page Dr. Benefield immediately!”
Long brown hair surrounded by a halo of light. Hazel eyes.
Marley?
Marley. Where’s Marley?
26
I open my eyes again to see Dr. Benefield studying my face intently. She smiles, pushing her glasses onto her head.
“Welcome back, mister,” she says loudly, the sound crisp and clear. I wince, taken aback. “You gave us quite a scare. Can you hear me?”
I open my mouth, but my throat feels like sandpaper, raw and dry and scratchy. “M—” I croak out, but it’s like there are tiny shards of glass rubbing against my vocal cords.
“Don’t talk,” Dr. Benefield instructs.
But I need to. I need to ask where Marley is. All I can remember is blinding lightning, the storm raging, and her, nowhere to be found.
“Mar—,” I rasp, wincing in pain. Dr. Benefield reaches out, touching my arm and shaking her head, her face serious.
“Shh,” she insists. “I’ll get your family. They’re going to be so excited.”
I watch her leave, fighting to keep my eyes open, the lights still uncomfortably bright, my vision cloudy. Hazy.
I focus on the voices outside the room, but my body feels so weak, completely depleted. Next to me a machine beeps loudly, tracking my pounding heart rate.
“Someone’s very happy you’re awake,” Dr. Benefield says from the door.
Marley.
My eyes swing back to Dr. Benefield, her outline still foggy, but I can make out a girl next to her, arm in a sling.
She pushes open the door farther and…
The entire room spins. I grab on to the rail on my bed, my breath seizing. I shut my eyes and wait for it to subside, to come back into reality like always. I must have really hit my head, because this flash is bad. More real than any of the others.
But when I open my eyes, the air rushes right out of me again.
Because it isn’t Marley who walks through the door.
It’s Kimberly.
And this time she doesn’t fade.
But I do.
27
When I wake up, I keep my eyes squeezed shut, the nightmare with Kim slowly ebbing. I hear the machines beeping next to me, the sterile smell of hospital sheets filling my nose, a hand stroking my arm lightly, gently.
I must’ve hit my head bad in the storm. Bad enough to need to go to the hospital again. Bad enough to have a flash like that.
“These summer storms are drowning my roses. Why won’t it—”
“Mom,” I croak as I open my eyes, relieved, the image of Kim replaced by my mom’s profile, the colors sharp and bright. I look around the room, too weak to sit up, too disoriented to take everything in, my mind moving in slow motion.
Her eyes swing over to look at me, and she gasps, then plants kisses all over my face, tears swimming into her eyes. “I thought I’d never hear that again.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask as the tears fall all over me. I groan, reaching up to touch my head. “I fell. Hit my head, I think.”
She hesitates, frowning slightly, her hand pausing on my arm. “Do you remember anything?”
I stare at her. What does she mean do I remember anything? I just told her.
“Yeah, I fell and hit my head looking for Marley during the thunderstorm. Right?”
Her face falls. What else is there to remember? My heart stops. Please don’t let anything have happened to Marley.
“Marley? I—you were in a car accident, Kyle,” she continues, her eyes boring into mine. “With Kimberly.”
I blink, shaking my head. As if I could ever forget. Why is she bringing that up now?
“Yeah, Mom,” I say, reaching weakly up to hold her hand, the IV tugging at my skin. “That was a year ago. Last night I busted my face in the back
yard.”
She stares at me. “You’re confused, honey. You’ve been… asleep,” she says, her eyebrows knitting together. “In a coma.”
“In a—what?” I pause, taking in her expression. How hard did I hit my head last night? “A coma? How long?”
“Eight weeks,” she says.
What? If it was that bad for me, Marley might have had it even worse. Did something happen to her in the storm? “Where’s Marley?” I ask her, feeling more worried every second that she isn’t there.
Mom looks at me, her eyes filled with worry. Finally she asks, “Who?”
I freeze, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
The shriek of the metal. Kimberly’s horrified face. Fluorescent lights flashing overhead as I’m wheeled down the hallway.
But… this doesn’t make any sense.
Where is Marley?
“I’ve gotta get out of here,” I say as panic claws at my chest. I try to swing myself up, but my right leg refuses to move. I look frantically down to see a full cast enveloping the entire length of my leg, and when I move it, pain radiates through the bones. A sense of déjà vu overwhelms me. Déjà vu and horror.
“It’s over now,” my mom says, grabbing ahold of my arm. “Things will be back to normal in no time. You’ll see.”
I yank my arm from her grip and rip the IVs from my hand. As I try to stand, my left leg crumples under the weight. I tumble forward into my mom. She breaks my fall, trying to keep us both upright.
“Nurse!” she screams out. “I need a nurse. Someone, please!”
I struggle to keep moving, but strong hands grab me and something sharp stabs my upper arm. A nurse… with a needle. I fall back onto the bed, my arms and legs like lead weights. Everything is suddenly slow and heavy as my mouth fights to form words.
“I… don’t…,” I manage to get out, my eyes focusing on my mom. “Kimberly’s… alive?”
“Of course she is, darling,” my mom says, confused. “She’s been here every day.”
All This Time Page 15